Chapter One: Strange Tales

Early morning, beneath the parasol trees.

The sunlight is gentle; a soft breeze brushes past, setting the green leaves a-flutter and casting dappled shadows.

A short-haired boy in a blue-and-white school uniform leans against a tree, nibbling on a steaming seaweed rice ball, gazing abstractedly at the shimmering surface of the canal ahead.

Li Sheng, seventeen years old, a sophomore in high school.

Like many his age, he had often fantasized that there was something hidden and extraordinary about him, waiting for the right moment to manifest.

Regrettably, it is an ordinary world, an ordinary life.

The gravity of reality is heavy; no owl has arrived with a Hogwarts acceptance letter, no invitation from Cassel College has appeared, and his long-lost parents did not pass down any bloodline limits or superhuman genes.

That’s right, Li Sheng is an orphan, living with his aunt’s family.

According to his aunt, seventeen years ago on a winter day, she had just opened her front door when she found a cradle sitting there.

Inside the cradle was an infant clutching an envelope. The envelope contained Li Sheng’s name and an apology from his father for intruding upon his sister’s life. Accompanying this were two hundred thousand in cash at the bottom of the cradle.

Two hundred thousand might have been enough to raise a child elsewhere, but Yin City is an expensive international metropolis. With the costs of clothing, food, housing, and transportation, that money was spent within a few years.

Growing up, Li Sheng attended the same elite schools as his cousins, took the same extracurricular classes, and ate the same meals. The only differences lay in the size of his bedroom or the age of his phone. In any case, one could hardly call it abuse.

Conversely, the attitude of his aunt’s family toward him was not that of kin, but rather of familiar strangers sharing the same roof.

Politeness far outweighed affection.

Considering his aunt’s refusal to speak of Li Sheng’s father, the relationship between the two was likely quite complicated.

It was precisely because of this awkward family atmosphere that every morning, when Li Sheng biked to school, he would make the excuse that he liked the rice balls from a snack stall on the east side of the school, taking a deliberate detour to avoid traveling with his cousins who attended the same high school.

A year and a half from now, once the college entrance exams are over, he will apply to a university far away. As far as possible. As for the money he owed his aunt’s family over the years, he would just have to settle that after he started working.

Before he knew it, the seaweed rice ball was finished. Li Sheng crumpled the plastic bag into a ball, tossed it into a trash can, and said to the owner of the snack stall, "Uncle Chen, I’m off."

The owner nodded, "Mm, be careful on the road."

Li Sheng, pushing his bicycle, hesitated for a moment and asked, "Uncle Chen, are you still setting up the stall tonight?"

The owner looked a bit confused, "Of course. My kid has school."

"Then... stay safe. Things haven't been very peaceful in the city lately."

Li Sheng could only say this much before riding off toward the school.

For the past year, increasingly bizarre and eerie urban legends have been circulating on the internet.

Things like the bus that only runs at night, packed with corpses;
The murderous text message that guarantees death seven days after being received;
The shopping mall mannequins that wear human skin and disguise themselves as people;

Li Sheng had even seen a short video on an overseas website—a group of teenagers skateboarding in a park accidentally knocked over a trash can, and from it tumbled a charred human head crawling with maggots.

Li Sheng had often visited that park as a child, so he was intimately familiar with it, and the event shown in the video had happened just one week ago.

What was even more absurd was that the case had made no waves on the domestic internet; not a single scrap of information could be found. The park remained bustling, filled with crowds of pedestrians.

Out of a certain sense of apprehension, Li Sheng had specifically bought a Swiss Army knife on Taobao and kept it in the outer pocket of his backpack—though he knew that if he truly encountered danger, such a small blade might not be of much use.

His bicycle passed through several intersections and turned onto a tree-lined avenue. Beyond the stream of luxury cars, the gilded characters for "Zhuoyue High School" were vaguely visible.

As a private combined junior and senior high school with top-tier comprehensive facilities in the city, the student body at Zhuoyue consisted of those with wealthy and powerful families, those who were exceptionally academically gifted, or those with average grades whose families paid a high price for their enrollment.

Blending in among his polished, glamorous classmates, the inconspicuous Li Sheng stepped onto campus and, accompanied by the sounds of students reciting lessons, walked into the classroom for Class 5, Sophomore Year.

"Good morning."

Just as he hung his backpack on the back of his chair, the girl in the seat to his left, named Ye Jiaying, set down her book, tilted her head, and greeted him with a gentle, radiant smile, looking as beautiful as a painting.

"Y-you, good morning too."

Li Sheng froze for a moment before reacting, tightening his expression and sitting down slowly, regretting in his heart why he had suddenly lost the ability to speak.

He still remembered the first day he saw Ye Jiaying. It was the start of the semester; she was wearing a white sweater and a brown plaid skirt, stepping across the hallway in light blue canvas shoes.

The boys in the classroom, Li Sheng included, simultaneously stopped chatting and reading, staring blankly out the window.

Some of the girls in the class, who had dressed up meticulously for the first day of school, were so annoyed by this that their teeth ached. Yet, for some reason, that sweater-and-plaid-skirt outfit remained a trend in the school for several months.

"Seriously, Brother Sheng,"

Just as he sat down, the boy at the desk to his right poked him with an elbow, his face full of mockery, "Your reply was way too low-tier."

Han Letian, a childhood friend who had known Li Sheng for over a decade.

Li Sheng shot him a sideways glance and lowered his voice, "And what would you have said? Do you have a better line?"

Han Letian said with utter seriousness, "You should have said, 'The morning only becomes good when I see you.'"

"Ugh, could you be any cheesier? You’re so oily the U.S. military might come to invade you." Li Sheng rolled his eyes and took out his homework to be submitted, placing it on the desk.

"Believe what you want. Anyway, lend me your homework to copy. I stayed up all night playing that VR horror game produced by Prometheus Corp—I have to say, it’s really addictive."

Han Letian curled his lip, skillfully fishing the math homework from Li Sheng’s desk to compare and copy against a few other notebooks. From time to time, he muttered, "Is the answer to this question B or 13? Why is everything written so messily?"

Campus life was as calm as ever.

The usual routine of classes, breaks, lunch, naps, and school ending. As the sun set, Li Sheng deliberately stayed behind to clean the blackboard, hoping for more time with Ye Jiaying.

The class seating chart changed every month; in other words, he only had one month of being seatmates with Ye Jiaying.

Only after she hopped out of the classroom to go home with her best friends did he put down the eraser, grab his bag, and leave, biking to Zhao’s Dessert Shop for his part-time job.

The owner, Uncle Zhao, was a good man and paid a fair hourly wage. If the shop wasn't busy, Li Sheng would deliver cakes as a rider. If it was busy, he would help out in the kitchen. After a year of practice, he had already become quite skilled.

Compared to the brilliant geniuses at school, his grades were only average; in the future, he would likely attend an ordinary university and have an ordinary job.

Learning a trade early that could support him, like making cakes and desserts, wasn't a bad thing.

In fact, Li Sheng had long suspected that his aunt and uncle actually knew he wasn't going to the library to study after school every day. The reason they didn't stop him was that learning a skill would allow him to become independent sooner.

He worked in the dessert shop for a few hours, then checked the time—it was nearly eleven at night.

Li Sheng called out, "Uncle Zhao, I’m off."

"Oh, alright," the owner’s voice came from behind the plastic curtain, "Take that milk tea on the table; a customer canceled the order at the last minute, don't let it go to waste."

"Mm, thanks, Uncle."

Li Sheng shouldered his backpack, took the milk tea, and biked away from the shop.

The night was deep, and the alleys of the old town were narrow and dark. The boy sipped his milk tea, slowly pedaling his bike.

*BOOM—*

A dull thud came from very far away, sounding nothing like thunder.

Li Sheng glanced in the direction of the sound, only to see the city lights in the distance suddenly extinguish. From the neon of the high-rises to the streetlights, everything plunged into darkness.

*BOOM!*

Another dull thud, and another district’s lights went out.

*BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!*

The sounds came faster and faster, as if the entire city were suffering a massive power outage, sinking into pitch blackness.

Only the streetlights in the neighborhood where Li Sheng was located continued to emit a faint glow.

The sudden, eerie situation made his heart pound uncontrollably. He reflexively took out his phone; the top right corner showed no signal.

What is going on...

Just as he was filled with doubt and shock, a strange force struck Li Sheng in the back, sending him and his bike flying, crashing into the brick wall of a residential complex.

"Cough, cough."

Li Sheng saw stars, coughing as he climbed up. The thing that had just sent him flying was a deformed monster.

It looked like a hybrid of a spider and a killer bee, standing as tall as a person. Its head bore four pairs of compound eyes, and embedded between them were three droplets of congealed blood, resembling red amber. On its back were two pairs of membranous wings, its body was covered in yellowish-brown fuzz, and a long, narrow needle extended from its tail.

*Pfft! Pfft!*

The monster spat out dense webbing, precisely sealing Li Sheng’s mouth, nose, and hands, pinning him firmly to the stone wall. He could not break free.

Only then did Li Sheng notice that he was not the only victim on this street—two others were stuck to the opposite wall.

One was dressed in a suit, looking like an office worker who had just gotten off work; the other wore a riding helmet and a standard blue vest, appearing to be a designated driver.

With all three prey stuck to the walls, the bee-like monster flew slowly toward the first victim. Ignoring the latter’s struggles and roars, it pierced his chest with its needle and began to suck slowly.

Accompanied by a "gurgling" sound, the fat abdomen of the bee-like monster writhed continuously, pumping blood and bile like a water pump.

The victim’s chest and abdomen withered away at a visible speed, loose skin hanging off his bones.

The entire feeding process was neither fast nor slow.

The designated driver nearby was going insane with terror, kicking the wall frantically in an attempt to pull himself free. However, with his hands trapped, it was all in vain.

Li Sheng was helpless to assist. His mouth and nose were sealed with the webbing; he couldn't breathe. The suffocating sensation of oxygen deprivation rushed to his brain, and his vision was turning black. He was struggling to save his own life.

He vaguely saw that the bee-like monster had finished draining the first victim and had plunged its stinger into the second person’s chest.

The designated driver’s whimpers for help faded rapidly, like a candle flame being snuffed out.

At this life-or-death moment, Li Sheng’s mind was exceptionally clear. His brain analyzed the situation with extreme coldness, searching for a way to save himself.

First, he had to break free. His left wrist was glued by the webbing, unable to move; only the wrist of his shirt was stuck on his right side, leaving his right hand with a certain range of motion.

Li Sheng used all his strength, twisting his entire body to retract his right hand, pulling it out through the collar of his shirt.

With one arm free, he tried to claw at his face, finding that the webbing had already hardened and was extremely tough; it wouldn't tear off.

The feeling of suffocation intensified. Li Sheng fumbled backward, unzipped the outermost pocket of his backpack, and the Swiss Army knife he kept for self-defense was hidden right there in the lining.

He took out the knife, opened it, and desperately began cutting at the webbing on his face with the sharp blade. Twenty seconds passed, and he had only sliced through the outermost layer.

His lungs felt like they were about to explode, his heart hammered against his ribs as if it wanted to burst out, and his vision grew darker and darker.

To save himself, there was only one way left.

A certain intense, cold resolve formed in his mind.

Li Sheng’s pained expression calmed. He placed the blade of the knife across his throat, pressing it 2.5 centimeters below his Adam's apple.

Then, he cut with force.

His throat was slashed, and blood flowed out. Li Sheng puffed out his chest, using his chin to clamp the knife tightly, while simultaneously reaching his feet toward the nearby milk tea, kicking it toward his face as if he were kicking a ball.

He wasn't doing it to drink the tea, but for the straw.

*Snap!*

His right hand caught the thick, long straw with unerring precision in mid-air, and he jammed the tip of the straw into his trachea through the opening cut by the knife.

*Huu—haaa—*

Oxygen was greedily pumped into his lungs. The darkness caused by hypoxia rapidly receded, and Li Sheng came back to life.

For now.